I knew exactly where we would go – the garden of Gethsemane, that place of consolation where I frequently found rest. All the preliminary events were over. There remained only the great trial. I could no longer put it aside. The fullness of its destructive powers confronted me. I had to move quickly, taking with me only Peter, James and John, while asking the others to sit there and pray.

Quickly, the full agony began. The three apostles could see the change. I told them that my soul was sorrowful and to watch and pray. Going a little further, I could no longer hold back my pleas, “Father, if it is possible, take this chalice away from me”. No answer came. No words fell from the Father’s lips.

Soon, Judas would come with those who would arrest me. He knew this place. He was the key to my capture. I cried out again. Again, only silence. Then I uttered those words, “Not my will, but yours be done”. I would be his faithful Son until the last drop of blood was shed. The time had come. The crowd led by Judas was here. I gathered up the sleeping apostles and awaited the confrontation.